”Nor does she have a place within the canon of female writers who fought for women’s writing to be taken seriously --- But for centuries after her birth, it’s time for that to change. Woolf once wrote that ’the crazy Duchess became a bogey to frighten clever girls with’: what better time to prove we’re not scared?”
Pure Wit is a biography of 17th century writer, philosopher, scientist, duchess and celebrity Margaret Cavendish, who, despite her extensive writing career and her truly radical works, has been largely forgotten. Francesca Peacock aims to give her the limelight she deserves and explores not just her life but her poems, novels, nonfiction and plays that challenged the world she lived in and posed truly unique ideas.
After listening to Peacock talk about Margaret on a podcast, I knew I wanted to learn more about this peculiar woman. When I came across this book, I immediately picked it up. It’s a great introduction to Margaret as a person but also to the timeperiod she lived in. Her works and her story cannot be separated from their historical context, as her experiences during the brutal Civil War, her over a decade long exile on the continent (she was a loyalist and escaped England as part of Queen Henrietta Maria’s court) and the Restoration impacted her writings immensely. Her works were full of militaristic metaphors and they can only be fully appreciated if you understand the devastation of the war she witnessed, escaped and lost family members in. Peacock also offers, through Margaret, a look into, for example, the gender norms, fashions, literary conventions and philosophical debates of the time.
I appreciated that Peacock didn’t attempt to sanitize Margaret in any way and embraced her as a complex individual. The Margaret she presents to the reader was both cripplingly shy and bombastic, known for her extravagant dress (gotta love the red nipple tassels she is said to have worn, in public, when enjoying some theater). She wrote extensively, angrily about marriage as a trap and a sort of slavehood for women while also being quite in love with her own husband, William Cavendish, despite the occasional qualms they had. She was a revolutionary thinker who highlighted women’s issues and challenged the norms of her time, but she was also a staunch royalist who believed in the divine right of kings. While Peacock does highlight Margaret as an example of early feminist thinking and writing (and one of the earliest women who wrote about sapphic desire), she also acknowledges that Margaret is a “difficult feminist” as she also attacks other women in her writings and is, as I mentioned before, a royalist which does complicate the image of her as this normbending radical. But she must absolutely be regarded as an early feminist thinker: she criticized the idea of marriage and motherhood as the only things women are fit for, wrote of female-led societies and female warriors, suggested lesbianism as an alternative to heterosexual relationships and proudly stood by her own work, publishing under her own name which was something women very rarely did at the time. And if they did, they definitely didn’t write about atoms, faeries, natural philosophy, matter, war, science and the like. Margaret also challenged fashion conventions, wearing, for example, extremely revealing clothes and masculine hats and vests. She even adopted male customs, such as bowing instead of curtsying, which I think is quite impressive. For all these reasons, she deserves to be part of the canon of feminist thinking.
There were aspects of Margaret’s story that I found strangely relatable, which reminded me, once again, that even though she lived a long time ago, she was a human just like me. Margaret suffered from bouts of depression and anxiety – or melancholia – throughout her life (same). She only found solace amongst her family (same) and later her husband, and it’s said she sometimes got so stressed about the idea of losing her most beloved sister, that she woke her up during the night to check if she was still alive (I have not woken anyone up to check, but I have checked if family members are definitely breathing as they sleep). There’s so much in Margaret’s story that can be difficult to understand, such as some of her philosophical theories, and it is easy to get lost in the myths about her infamy – moments like these, the idea of a girl fearing for her sister’s life so much that she checks the food she eats in case it is poisonous, remind you that Margaret was, for all her eccentricity and genius ideas, just a human.
I found many aspects of Margaret’s writing to be difficult to fathom, but that is not so much a case of her being utterly unintelligible (as many have claimed over the years) but of me just not having the brain capacity to really understand philosophy. But I did think her takes on gender, marriage and motherhood interesting, and I found her staunch belief that animals should be considered sentient beings just like humans, capable of emotion and cleverness, quite radical. Her royalism is difficult to digest sometimes. She was a daring writer in many ways – she openly challenged the scientific male thinkers of her time (like Hobbes and Descartes) in her works and wanted to debate them – but I found her teetering on the edge of atheism to be especially daring. It seems she did believe in God, but she rarely mentions him in her works, focusing more on a feminine Nature-figure. She also declared that many innocent women have been killed as witches and denied the idea of magic born out of pacts with Satan. It is no wonder that, after her death, there were some really cruel poems written about her soul being in Hell.
The only other figure who really shines in this book is Margaret's husband, William. He was an interesting man in many ways – he was a close ally of Henrietta Maria, a tutor to Charles II, a staunch royalist and a soldier who disgraced himself with a hideous defeat and by exiling himself to the continent. His lousy reputation didn't seem to matter to her – nor did him being 30 years older than her – and while to us their relationship might seem icky (she was around 20 when they married), there was true love and devotion there. Considering Margaret's really negative views on marriage, it seems unlikely she married out of anything other than strong love. And considering their rather intense love letters and poems and how Margaret saw him as a safe haven amidst her mental turmoils, they surely were in love. I had to respect him for seemingly having no issue at all with his wife's unconventional career (he helped her publish and introduced him to his and his brother's wide circle of literary friends) and for helping educate Margaret as well as his own daughters, who also wrote plays and poems. It's safe to say that he clearly didn't share the issues many men of his time had with educated, clever women who broke gender norms. He also clearly trusted Margaret, as he happily let her take control of running their household and all that comes with it (despite how much his kids hated this – they saw Margaret as a conniving wicked stepmom). And considering how important heirs were at the time and how motherhood was often seen as the sole purpose of wives, it must be appreciated that while William wanted more sons, his love for Margaret didn't lessen when it became evident she couldn't have them. It's a low bar, I know, but still you have to give William some credit. No credit should be given, though, for his rather cringey love poetry – it seems he was much better at drama, which he published. I also have to mention that I found the idea of William, Margaret and Charles, William's brother, living together in exile, reading books, doing science experiments and acting as patrons to other creatives and thinkers, to be quite sweet.
The final chapter, detailing how Margaret has been remembered and interpreted, made my blood boil. I knew she has been largely forgotten and that, if she is remembered, she is considered an oddball and slightly mad, but reading about the way she was made into this example of ideal wifehood (she would’ve just hated that) in the 18th century, declared the Mad Mage of Newcastle in the 19th century and depicted, in 1918, by Henry Ten Eyck Perry as this woman “dangerously far from sanity” (as proven by her writings) made me so, so angry. Even in 1979 it was claimed that The Blazing World, her most revolutionary piece of work, was a sign of her schizophrenia! All of that combined with how her works have been edited (“icky” stuff like mentions of bodily functions taken out alongside mentions of lesbian desire) and “fixed” by, mostly, men made me feel genuine anger for her. Her biggest goal in life was to be remembered and for her books to give her an “afterlife” – she would be appalled and heartbroken by how she has been remembered. Peacock, who herself does a monumental job of pulling away the myths and misogynistic narratives that surround Margaret, does end the book with a hopeful note: our understanding of her is changing, her books are being more appreciated and she is slowly being uncovered again. I like her ending the book saying we should take Margaret as she is, with all her flaws, rather than try and make a trope out of her. She is neither a raving madwoman or a morally pure feminist icon: she is more complex than that.
I am really happy I read this book and got to know Margaret Cavendish better. There's still much that I don't quite understand about her views of the world, but there's always time to learn more in the future. I would recommend this book happily for anyone interested in a) women's history, b) Civil War England and Restoration England history, c) history of feminism, and d) history of writers and philosophy.
Interesting facts I learned:
- Margaret was the first woman to visit the Royal Society.
- Margaret’s dad was also scandalous: he got a 13-year-old pregnant out of wedlock, killed a man in a duel, was exiled by Elizabeth I and pardoned by James I.
- Margaret’s family home was ransacked twice during the Civil War and on both occasions graves of her relatives were disturbed. Unfortunately this was not rare during the war. Her mom was imprisoned for a while and her brother executed by anti-monarchists.
- Charles I’s war base during the war was Oxford.
- William was Charles II’s tutor when he was the Prince of Wales.
- William’s oldest kid from his previous marriage was older than Margaret.
- One of William’s sons was told, by a doctor, to season his food with dried frog. This would, apparently, help cure his depression.
- Margaret went to London during their exile to petition the Parliament for some of William’s wealth. She was denied, though many other royalist wives who petitioned for their husbands got at least a fifth.
- Aemilia Lanyer’s Salve Deu Rex Judaeorum, published in 1611, was the first book of poetry published by an English woman.
- During her escape from England (Margaret was present), Henrietta Maria is said to have told the captain of her ship to blow their ship up if it seems they will be caught. A stone cold move and one that would’ve killed many more than just her, but it showcases the Queen’s dedication to her cause and husband.
- During the Civil War women did fight: as spies, as defenders against sieges and as cross-dressing soldiers. Charles I even planned a decree that would’ve made dressing up a as a man a grievous crime. His disgust towards crossdressing was most likely born out of his religiousness.
- Many writers circulated their work in manuscript form rather than publish because, in this way, it was easier to avoid censorship.
- Oliver Cromwell’s useless son and heir Richard was nicknamed “Tumbledown Dick” after failing to hold on to power.
- In The Blazing World, she writes herself into the story: she becomes the Empress’s scribe and they have a rather sapphic dynamic. Wild. The Blazing World is also the earliest published (1666) scifi story by a woman – sorry, Mary Shelley.
- During Margaret’s time, Shakespeare was not as revered as he is now. People edited his works – this one guy, Nahum Tate, even gave King Lear, in 1681, a happy ending.
- The marble monument at the Cavendishes grave portrays Margaret with a book and an inkpot in her hand.
- Margaret’s cause of death is unknown. She died, at 50, most likely of a very sudden illness – a stroke or a heartattack of some kind. William, already in his 80s, was too weak to attend the funeral, which is just all sorts of sad.